Dear Tall People,

We were all short at one time. But then you all grew. And we didn’t. Our “growth spurt” didn’t happen like we thought it would. Our dreams of being tall have long since perished, and now we’re stuck here rotting as the lowly armrest of the rest of humanity.

And there’s nothing we can do about it.

The only good thing about being short is that we can order off of kids menus without being questioned. And we can probably do this all the way through college (and beyond) — you get the gist.

You faced these problems of being short when you were younger — unless you were abnormally tall for your age. But, years and years later, we still have these problems. We still can’t reach things. Even you clothing stores; you put all the 0s and 00s on the top shelf, how dare you. And once we do ask someone who works at the store to bring down our clothes, they don’t end up fitting us anyway. They might seem cute off the rack, but what’s the point of buying pants if we have to cut off the entire bottom hem? It’s just a waste of money if you ask us.

And you complain about being tall. Ha.

Let’s talk about hugs. In hindsight, they seem great — a way show affection and greet people, but we don’t want to show that much affection. And by “that much affection,” we mean: every single time we give (a normal person) a hug, our faces somehow always end up right in her or his (no discrimination) boobs.

And then there’s the concerts, movies, events, etc. We can’t see anything. The only view of the event we have is of people’s backs. We have to pay, what, $10 to get into the theater, and then we can’t even see the movie.

And then there’s just talking to people. We are constantly looking up. After a while it starts to hurt our necks. And then when other tall people come, we’re just ignored. Nobody knows we’re there. It’s like we are out of their field of vision. And don’t get us started on how many times people ask “where’s Kailea” or “where’s Aura” when we are standing less than three feet away from them.

And don’t even get us started on the fact that we get no gosh dang respect. I am not a child. I am not 10 years old. You can stop talking to us in that tone, using words like ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey,’ ‘are you lost,’ ‘should you be out here by yourself,’ or ‘Where are your parents.’

No. We are not lost. We are holding our car keys in our hands, you can stop yelling at us asking “Are you okay? What are you, like, 12? Where are your parents?” You can stop talking to me like I’m 3. I would really appreciate it.

In conclusion, short people are people too, so, please, treat us accordingly.

Love,

The Short People